


The Many Sides of Anxiety

by Castherat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Panic Attacks, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Hyperventilation, Insomnia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Swearing, the sides are trying their best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castherat/pseuds/Castherat
Summary: There are many sides to having anxiety. It is more than just the panic attacks and shaking; it’s the insomnia, the behavioural tics, the agitation and so much more. There is no one side to experiencing anxiety.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Panic Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Starting this fic off with panic attack. I plan for each chapter to focus on a particular symptom
> 
> Panic attacks vary between individuals. There are really bad attacks and then just what become "the usual" (at least that's the scale I use for mine). They can happen spontaneously and very quickly become more of an annoyance. To put it simply, they absolutely suck

Virgil absolutely hated panic attacks. They always appeared so suddenly with hardly any warning. He remembered when he was younger, his first panic attack when he still called himself Paranoia – he was himself one second, and then a shaking mess the next. He didn’t even realize it was a panic attack at the time, but looking back, the sudden onset of tears and fear of something horrible going to happen, it was a textbook definition. 

Over the years he had gotten much better at sensing oncoming attacks. He wasn’t perfect; he wasn’t sure anyone could accurately pinpoint attacks, but he more or less picked up on his own or Thomas’ symptoms prior to falling into that trap. 

Virgil had experienced all sorts of panic attacks. Some lasted for the standard thirty minutes, some for hours on end that would sometimes drain his day. The duration was always fluctuating and it was just another thing out of his control. Another reason to be anxious, always on edge of the possibility if he would experience one that day. They happened suddenly and swallowed up his time and energy. 

He never liked experiencing panic attacks with the other Sides around. Virgil hated becoming a disruption, the centre of everyone’s attention. He couldn’t take being coddled, treated as if he was made of glass. They also tended to ask him a lot of questions, which when you were in a state of panic, was the last thing you needed. 

Remus used to find it funny when they were younger. Trying to set these attacks off became his favourite past time. It was a main reason he wished to experience his attacks alone. He used to see Janus about it, but Janus was never too good with these things. He tried but, all he really knew what to do was pat his back and tell him to calm down – which did _not_ help. 

So now here he was. Watching _The Rescuers_ with Roman. It was just them two trying to kill time on a Sunday, sitting in the commons with loads of pillows and snacks. Everything was fine and that was the most irritating part with these attacks. How the triggers could be something in passing or subconscious – but yet your body immediately lodges into _danger_. And that’s what happened. Virgil was munching on popcorn when he felt the pang in his chest. 

_Fucking great_ , he swore bitterly. He placed his fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse quicken. He didn’t know why he did that, there was just something about actually feeling his heightened heartbeat that confirmed what he wanted to deny – _panic attack_. 

“I’ll be back,” he said (a little too quickly, a thought that will keep him up later) as he stood to go to the washroom, not even listening for Roman’s response, not even sure if there was one. 

He went into the washroom, locking the door and looking at himself in the mirror. Amazing. He could feel the panic climbing up, swelling in his chest and neck as it choked the sense out of him. His hands were shaking now and he felt _hot_. His hoodie was not helping. He removed it as he reached for the sink. Splashing cold water onto his face and back of his neck sometimes helped ground him, remind him that he was fine, but he just felt like static. He tried to recall his breathing exercises. They didn't always work, but when he got like this, Virgil tried anything he could remember. The ringing in his ears was starting as he tried to level his breathing, only to fail and lap into hyperventilating.

It was always like this. He couldn’t combat this, couldn’t do anything but suck it up and wait for the panic to pass. There was a time when he would attempt to repress these attacks, even times when Thomas repressed him – but it only made it worse in the end. 

There was a knock on the door. Or maybe that was just the static in his ears. 

“Virgil?” 

No. Yeah. That was Roman. But Virgil couldn’t find a voice to respond. So, he just knocked back to the prince. Thankfully, the Lights had become accustomed to Virgil and his little nonverbal cues. He was so grateful for that, though would never openly say so. The knock was enough of a response to let Roman know he was physically okay but also couldn’t verbally answer right now. 

Roman hummed from his side of the door. “Panic attack, huh?” 

Virgil hated having panic attacks around others, though if he were to choose, Patton or Logan were definitely better at handling him then Roman was. Patton was very warm, albeit was too touchy which did not work when his clothes felt heavy enough to suffocate him. Logan was great at recounting strategies, though lacked the sympathy as he often lapsed into facts and _why_ his fight and flight reacted like it did. And, that was fascinating and all, but not when Virgil felt ready to pass out. 

Roman was understanding, he was much more vigilant then they tended to give him credit for, but he wasn’t very good at being vulnerable. He liked being a daring prince who could slay any villains – physically that is. Fighting off a threat you couldn’t tangibly see? That was hard. He was too much, often asking more questions in attempt to seek guidance on how to best approach the situation. 

_‘What should I do? What do you need? Can you breathe? Do you want water?’_

It was a lot. He didn’t blame Roman, but speaking was the last thing Virgil wanted to do. Roman just got easily overwhelmed, and hearing others panic on top of his own? It was just more noise on top of the static ringing in his ears. 

Virgil just focused on his breathing and the coolness of the tiled floor. For how long, he couldn’t be sure. Panic attacks had a thing they did where they felt like hours passed by; but at some point, he was able to bring the panic down to where he was sure he wouldn’t pass out from lack of oxygen. 

He was tired of sitting on the washroom floor. Using the wall to support himself, Virgil shakily stood back up, grabbing his hoodie. He opened the door, not too surprised to see Roman was still there, jumping when Virgil made his appearance. 

The prince stood tall, having sat on the ground as he waited. Virgil felt that familiar guilt, the one where he feels responsible for bothering his friends, but Princey was smiling at him, though the worry was clear on his face. 

“Can you talk?”

Virgil gave a shrug. He could but, he didn’t want to. He was just tired. 

“Okay,” Roman nodded, “let’s go lie down.” 

They returned to the commons; Virgil aware that Roman was hovering a little too close for his preference. He mentally rolled his eyes as he collapsed back into his spot on the couch. Roman stopped the movie, instead changing the channel to some cartoons for background noise. It helped, putting on something familiar, something to focus on outside of the _ringing_. 

“Do you want to be touched?” Roman asked, tentatively taking a seat next to Virgil rather than return to his own spot. The prince knew very well from Virgil himself that panic attacks heightened his senses, and that sometimes touch just sent him even further into panic. Patton had made that mistake once, and since then, they all have been a lot more hesitant in touching him when he was like this. He hated being touched when the attack was at its worse; it just reinforced his belief that he was in danger - but now that Virgil felt they were over that hill, he nodded. Sometimes touch could be grounding and he needed that. 

Roman was getting better at this. Virgil appreciated that, but Roman was still hesitant. He still required that guidance, not confident in himself when he couldn’t see the threat. It was almost endearing, seeing Roman actually being careful for once. So, to avoid any more questions that were sure to come, Virgil took the liberty of laying himself down, putting his head against Roman’s shoulder. 

That was enough guidance for Roman to pick up on. He knew where to go from here, running his fingers through the anxious Side’s hair. Virgil brought his knees up onto the couch; his heart still racing, making him very uncomfortable. He was sure Roman could feel it. But the prince was very comforting – not that he’d ever say that aloud. 

Leaning against him, Virgil tried to focus on his own breathing, trying to match Roman's. This close, he could even smell Roman’s perfume; _strawberries and roses_. It was a good, familiar scent. 

Feeling a wave of exhaustion suddenly come over him, Virgil closed his eyes. Panic attacks were extremely draining. Thankfully, this particular attack was not the worse he’s had, but Virgil hoped Roman was comfortable because the anxious Side had no intention of moving for the next several hours.


	2. Hyperventilation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hyperventilating can happen randomly and can exist outside of a panic attack, although many times they are lumped together as it is a panic attack’s primary symptom.
> 
> I appreciate everyone who read the first chapter! Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one as well :3

It was one of those times when he just randomly lapsed into hyperventilation. Well, it wasn’t exactly “random” – clearly something had triggered him, but Virgil couldn’t identify what possibly could have upset him. It pissed him off when this happened, as he liked to think he was getting better at managing and acknowledging triggers – and by extension, avoiding them for both his and Thomas’ sake. 

_Thomas_. The thought flashed briefly across his mind as he came to the understanding it was Thomas who was triggered. Something must have happened to their host, which of course, threw Virgil further into a panic. 

_What happened? Why’s Thomas upset? Is he scared? Is someone hurting him? Is he hurt? Is he alone? What were we doing today? Were we with people? Did we go somewhere? Are we in public? I need to help, someone needs to help, Thomas is in danger–_

“–breathe–Virgil–”

He could tell it was Logan who spoke, his voice steady and low. Virgil could only catch bursts of words though; his ears flooded by the pounding of his own heartbeat and his focus entirely on his breathing that was quickly getting away from him. 

“–happened? Is–”

“How–Thomas–”

“ _Thomas._ ” Virgil looked up, seeing all three of the Lights there, looking at him with slight concern. “He’s–I think–”

“Whoa there, Hot Topic,” Roman frowned at him, “you need to get your breathing under check here. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“It’s likely, as the carbon dioxide levels in his bloodstream are dropping,” Logan informed. 

“ _Logan_ ,” came Patton’s strained voice, laced with concern and mild agitation, “I understand you want to help but now is not the time for fun facts.”

Logan huffed, “I disagree. I think it is rather important to know that his blood vessels are constricting.”

Virgil made a noise, something mixed between a laugh and a groan – he was _not_ up for being schooled on his function right now and was still fidgeting over the fact that _Thomas was in trouble_.

“Thomas is fine, kiddo,” Patton reasoned, and Virgil acknowledged that he was suddenly sitting beside him – or maybe he always was. Either way, the moral Side was smiling sympathetically at him. “He just experienced a nightmare, okay? I promise.”

It’s times like these Virgil was envious of Janus. The way he was able to call out lies. A lot of his anxiety stemmed from the irrational thought that he was always being lied to – Janus was able to know exactly who was a liar, and thus, who he could trust. 

But again. These were his irrational thoughts because Patton wouldn’t lie. Not to Virgil, not to Thomas, and not to Virgil _about_ Thomas. 

Despite feeling lightheaded and the nausea bubbling in his stomach, Virgil focused just enough to actually get his bearings and identify that _yes, Thomas was safe_. Thomas did just have a nightmare, a terrifying one, but he was up now, in his bed and texting Joan about it.

Great. Okay, now to focus on his own breathing. He knew he wasn’t exactly supposed to, but Virgil had a habit of just holding his breath in an effort to force his breathing to _work_. Though it failed every time, it was always his first reaction in a fruitless attempt to get his breathing back under control. Old habits died hard. 

“Breathe through your nose slowly,” Logan instructed, his voice suddenly a lot closer than before. “It is more beneficial in evening it out.” 

Virgil fumbled with that advise. It was so hard to get your breathing under control, a battle with your body thinking it was deprived of air. He tried levelling it by recounting his breathing exercises, but didn't get far before relapsing into quick, short breaths. Logan came to sit next to him then, brows furrowed as he likely tried to deduce the best way to alleviate the situation. The logical Side was still for a moment before reaching out and placing a tentative hand on Virgil's elbow. Virgil was about to shrug the touch off when Logan spoke up. 

“Follow my example. Breathe in for up, out for down.” 

Virgil felt as Logan moved his hand up his arm to his shoulder. He followed; breathing in and holding it until Logan moved his hand down, signaling to breathe out. The motion was repeated until Logan deemed Virgil was at a more acceptable level; his breathing still hitched but out of the red zone.

“Much better! How you feeling, kiddo?” Patton asked, hands hovering but keeping mindful of personal space.

Virgil rubbed at his eyes, more frustrated with himself than anything. “Like I’m about to pass out.” He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at the others, reminding himself that they were sitting in the commons and were playing a game of Crazy Eights together, or had been before his episode. “Sorry about that.”

“No need for apologies, Virge. That actually looked painful,” Roman grimaced, a hand reflexively going to his own chest. 

“Can be, but this one wasn’t bad. I just felt Thomas’ panic,” Virgil muttered. 

“Are you still experiencing chest tightness?” Logan questioned, removing his hand and settling it within his lap. 

Virgil just shook his head. The pain was fading so there wasn’t any use in bringing it up. “I’m fine. Just tired now.”

Patton looked up to the clock on the wall, humming in acknowledgement. “It’s getting late anyways. Why don’t you just lie down on the couch?” Patton suggested. He stood back to give Virgil some space, his eyes bright. Virgil could practically see the little lightbulb light up. “Oh! I know! I’ll make some warm milk with honey!” 

Virgil shook his head, despite the smile on his face. “It’s not necessary, Pat.” 

“Shoosh! It absolutely is! Milk and honey make everything better, I heard it helps with nerves and better sleep!”

“Falsehood,” Logan interjected as he began cleaning up the discarded cards, “there is not much scientific evidence to back up the claim despite that it is a common home remedy.” 

Patton looked at Logan with a pout, which really was too cute since Patton was wearing his cat onesie. Despite that Logan appeared unimpressed, the pout was always successful in swaying them to take Patton’s side. Tonight was no different; Logan giving a sigh and relenting almost immediately.

“Though the levels of tryptophan in milk is too low to have a significant impact on sleep encouragement, there is clearly a psychological association in the placebo affects of warm milk and honey.” 

“I have no idea what the words you just said mean,” Roman cut in, looking too tired to even begin unpacking all that, “but I’ll have a glass with milk and honey too, please, padre!” 

Patton clapped his hands together with a smile as he began making his way into the kitchen. “Wonderful! Logan, would you also like a cup?” 

“Since you are making some anyways, sure.” 

Patton returned moments later with a tray of four mugs holding their warm beverages. Virgil took his, and even though Logan went on about placebos and tryptophans, the warm mug felt nice in his hands. It didn’t so much quell his nerves nor assist with his sleep, but he definitely felt much less sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warm milk and honey doesn’t work for me but warm beverages in general do help with the nerves. Anyways, hyperventilation is much easier to control when you are provided a visual or sensory – tho reminder that not everyone likes to be touched during these episodes.
> 
> Again, I know hyperventilation can be lumped with panic attacks, but I specifically want to make each chapter dedicated towards a symptom of anxiety. Next chapter will be dealing with insomnia~


	3. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insomnia - the difficulty in falling or staying asleep. 
> 
> I experience the inability to stay asleep. I wake up frequently during the night, usually due to that I have something the following day and the irrational fear that I will be "late". 
> 
> There is swearing in this chapter. Just in case that bothers anyone-

He woke up. _Again_. According to the time on his phone he had only gotten about an hour of sleep since he last was awake. 

Virgil groaned. They were filming a video tomorrow – or really _technically today since its early morning_ , he bitterly thought. And just the knowledge that he needed to be ready was keeping him up, that illogical side of him insisting he will be late or miss the filming despite that he had set himself an alarm. 

_An alarm that’s due to go off in just two hours_ , he realized. 

Virgil hardly, if ever, got a full night’s sleep. He woke up multiple times each night, but it was the worst when he needed to do something the following day because the stupid stress of having expectations was enough to keep him from proper sleep. 

He could sense Thomas was still asleep, which meant this was solely him and not their host. He groaned as he put his headphones on, looking for some music he hoped would get him to sleep. He clicked on his playlist specifically for restless nights and closed his eyes. 

_Still awake._

It was useless. He was uncomfortable and his mind was purposely on _getting sleep_ and what little time he had left to do so that he couldn't actually relax. Virgil checked his phone again. Though it felt like he just did, the time displayed across his screen told him forty minutes had gone by. 

Welp. Logan had told him a trick for people to fall back asleep is to get up and attempt to do something. Sometimes the trick worked, other times not so much, but Virgil wouldn’t be picky. He decided to start getting ready and if he got sleepy, he would just nap before recording. 

So, he got himself ready, the long and tedious way instead of just snapping his fingers, taking the time to do his makeup and hair. If anything, he felt more awake, so sleep was most definitely no longer an option despite the fact his eyelids felt heavy. He still had time to kill before anyone else would even be waking up, so Virgil made his way downstairs for a super early breakfast. He slowly opened his door, noting how quiet the hallways were; no other lights emitting from beneath the others’ doors. They were lucky, not plagued with insomnia. 

Patton loved sleep. He usually retired at 10pm and slept through until 10am. Logan was very serious about maintaining routine, but sometimes he stayed up if he needed to assist Thomas. If Virgil had to pick any Side as bad as him with sleeping; it would be Roman. They say there’s a link between the creative mind and fatigue, and Virgil had to believe it after witnessing Roman. The creative Side was usually up some nights when Virgil woke; painting or dancing or brainstorming. Virgil wouldn’t admit it, but at times he was grateful because it meant he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts, instead listening to Roman as he rambled about a new script idea – but the prince usually was asleep around the fourth or fifth time Virgil would wake up. 

Tonight, was not one of those nights. 

Currently, the Mindscape was dark, Roman ensuring it followed the regular cycles Thomas did. Virgil wandered his way down the stairs, noting a light from the lower level was on. Guess someone else was up after all. He made his way to the kitchen, and much to his surprise, saw Janus there, reading a book at the table. 

“You’re up early, Spiderling,” Janus greeted without looking up from his book. He was not in his usual attire, but actually wearing his sleepwear: a pitch black satin button-up. The only colour being his socks and ever-present gloves. 

Virgil huffed, “Not by choice.” 

He walked over to the kitchen, reaching into the cupboards for some cereal. He found some cheerios, grabbed the box, and sat at the table with Janus. Janus looked up at him then, quirking his brow, “Not even a bowl? I raised you better than this.” 

“Why get a bowl if the cereal is already in a container?” Virgil asked, grabbing a handful of cheerios. 

Janus rolled his eyes as he set down his book, manifesting a mug into his hands as he moved towards the coffee machine. “I thought your sleeping habits had improved.” 

Virgil hummed in bitter amusement. As if his sleeping habits would ever improve. Even when he lived with the Others, Janus and Remus slept. It was always Virgil who was up first. 

“What about you?” Virgil asked, gesturing towards the snake’s outfit, “why’re you up?” 

Janus hummed as he prepared his cup of coffee, “Lost track of time in the pages, I suppose. Riveting book. Logan leant it to me.” 

At that, Virgil reached over to the discarded book. He knew Janus and Logan had similar tastes in literature, often lapsing into discussions on historical figures or philosophers that no one else could follow. He lifted the book, the title _The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck_ sprawled across the cover. 

Virgil rolled his eyes with a smirk. “I should’ve guessed.” 

Janus flicked his tongue as he resumed his spot at the table now with his coffee, pulling the book back towards him. “I’ll lend it to you once I’m done. I feel the topic would intrigue you.” 

“I’m already good at not giving a fuck,” Virgil replied, scooping up more cereal. “I don’t need a book to tell me.” 

Janus stared back, looking clearly unconvinced by that statement. “Liar. Honestly, it’s not just because I could taste that bitter lie, but out of everyone in the Mindscape you’re constantly concerned with everyone else’s opinion.” 

Virgil huffed. “Sure I _care_ but I don’t ‘care’, y’know?” 

Janus smirked, shaking his head. “Right. Yes. That makes perfect sense. My mistake.” He picked up the book, returning where he had left off, “Nonetheless, I’ll leave it on your desk once I’m done.” 

A book would be nice. Logan had leant books to Virgil before, which definitely came in handy on these sleepless nights. Something to do for sure that didn’t include bothering anyone. By the looks of it, Janus was about more than halfway done. He was always an avid reader though – of both books and people. Virgil was always envious of that, how he wishes he could sense when someone was lying or being truthful. It would prevent him from spiralling down his rabbit hole of possibilities. 

“The others should be up soon,” Janus suddenly noted, “how much sleep did you get?” 

Virgil shrugged a shoulder. “Enough.” 

Janus glanced up over his book. “Don’t lie.” 

Virgil sighed, “I can’t help it if I can’t sleep, Dee. No use just laying in bed. Especially in my room.” 

“Suit yourself, but a whole day of filming on – what? Three? Four hours? Not fun.” 

Virgil groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t remind me.” 

Janus stared. An expression of contemplation as he seemed to be having a mental debate with himself. He then reached out for his untouched mug of coffee, placing it in front of Virgil. The anxious Side looked quizzically at the Lord, who only flashed the tip of his fangs in a grin, “You need it more than I. I understand Logan wants you to drink less caffeine – but Logan isn’t here.” 

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What did you put in here?” 

Janus gave a curt laugh at the accusation, “Please, Virgil. I’m not the type to use poison. Especially in my own mug. If I wanted to poison you, I’d make you peppermint tea.” 

Virgil stared at the coffee a moment before accepting the cup and taking a gulp. Janus liked his coffee almost black with just a cube of sugar. It was gross – Virgil preferring a lot more sugar and definitely some milk – but the fact that Logan had been regulating his caffeine intake had Virgil not care about the coffee flavour itself, only the hope it would keep him awake for the next few hours. 

“This coffee tastes like crap,” he quipped. 

Janus smiled at that. “So did that lie you just told.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses more on once Janus and Virgil get passed whatever hissy fit they're currently having in canon haha. I hope it's clear; they're bantering.
> 
> I drink a lot of coffee which my psychiatrist has told me to cut back on. I drink much less than I used to. It sucks coz caffeine intake is not helpful for anxiety – but when anxiety also caused daytime fatigue and sleepless nights? Yeah, coffee it is. 
> 
> Next chapter will handle behavioural tics!

**Author's Note:**

> SO,,, I suffer from GAD so I am in a constant state of anxiety. I am not sure what type of anxiety Thomas exactly struggles with (I think it’s social anxiety?) – but for the sake of this story, I will be basing Virgil off of my own anxiety and symptoms (definitely projecting onto him here haha).
> 
> I don’t talk about my GAD much in general, so I don’t even know if people would like to read a fic like this. But I hope it's still an enjoyable read. 
> 
> Cheers~


End file.
